Under Her Skin(17)
“I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“Everything looks good, but we have to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He lifted me in his arms, carrying me straight out the door and placing me in his car.
After a quick drive to the local hospital and tests that took more than three hours, I was diagnosed healthy and very lucky.
I told River to take me home, but apparently, that was out of the question. “Only place I trust you’ll be safe is with me.”
He’d carried me in and out of the car and then up to his apartment before tucking me into his bed.
“You can go into the shop today. I can take care of myself, I’ll just sleep—”
“No way. Not leaving your side. Possibly not ever again. Shouldn’t have sent you home to that asshole.” He pushed a hand through his hair, looking visibly upset. “We should call the police, Sienna.”
“No!” I shook my head. “No, he’s just hurt. I hurt him. It’s what I do—the disappointing daughter. He’ll get over it. It’s fine.”
“Bullshit, it’s fine. He’s an abusive fuck.”
“He is,” I agreed, then shut my eyes, remembering him before. Life before. “It wasn’t like that before the accident, though.”
“What happened that night, Sienna?”
A ball of tears choked my throat. “Car accident. Some drunk passed out in the middle of the road one night, right downtown. Probably stumbled out of the bar and just fell there. But the streetlight was out, and my parents were fighting. They just didn’t see him. It was too late by the time my dad knew something was wrong. He overcorrected at the last minute, hit the guy, and sent us careening into a telephone pole. We escaped with bumps and bruises, but my little sister was so small… She just couldn’t handle the impact, the doctors said.”
“Jesus, Sienna…” He paused, eyes glistening. His hands circled mine, arms pulling me to him and holding me so tightly I thought he might choke the air from my lungs.
“That’s why I got the tattoo. That scar is from that night, the night that changed all of our lives. I wanted to remember it, but I wanted to cover it up with something better.”
He nodded, hands still clutching at my back as he held me. Deep, racking breaths shook his body, his muscles trembling around me.
“River?” I breathed, forcing him away to lock on his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“That man in the street, Sienna. I think that man was my father.”
EIGHT
River
The memories of that night pummeled the inside of my head. A throbbing took permanent root before I watched, as if in slow motion, as Sienna’s eyes shuttered closed, hand covering her mouth as pain seemed to rocket through her system.
“Sienna.” I wrapped my arms around her as tears burned at my eyelids.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean, that man was your father?”
My heart split into a million shards, shredding my insides as it fell in pieces at my feet. I’d never wanted to tell this story again. I’d tried to bury the memory of it, of him, along with his body under the ground. “My dad was a drunk. From the day I was born, he was a no-good drunk. He could hardly hold a job, unemployed and passed out on the couch more than he was doing anything else. My mom worked two jobs, even three at one point, to pay the bills. We were evicted from house after house. It was a bad way to grow up. But it was all his fault, he loved that bottle more than he did us.
“When my mom died when I was sixteen, I think it was stress—or a broken heart. She loved my dad. I swear she was the only one who could see through to the good in him. I never did find it.” This part hurt to tell. If I’d thought my life was bad before Mom passed, shit only got worse. “I thought he’d change, maybe losing her would turn him around. But I was a dumb kid. Should have known people don’t change.” I glanced at her.
She nodded, fingers clutching mine a little tighter, encouraging me.
“I wasn’t surprised when CPS showed up at the house. Passed out in the middle of the road, hit by a car. He stumbled out of the bar to walk home and never quite made it.” I shook my head, still bitter about the life he’d lived. “But I never knew what happened to the family. I was young, days away from eighteen, and suddenly my dad was gone. I was angry, I had rage, but then one day, this check came in the mail. Apparently, my mom had out taken a life insurance policy on him because she knew something like that would happen. It wasn’t worth much, but it was enough to get the shop open, hire a few employees. That shop saved my life. In some fucked-up way, that night was a blessing because it set me on this path. I didn’t have a dime to my name, but all I wanted to do was draw and tattoo people. When I lost him, my life changed for the better. But your life, Sienna… Fuck, I’m so sorry he ruined your life.”